


records of the war

by subjectiveobjection



Series: postscript [1]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Episode: s11e16 Goodbye Farewell and Amen, M/M, pre-punnihawk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 20:32:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19384159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subjectiveobjection/pseuds/subjectiveobjection
Summary: everyone is sad!charles and bj bond. as one does.(set during goodbye farewell and amen)(can you tell i have no clue what i'm doing for my titles and summaries)





	records of the war

BJ puts his suitcase down on his cot, aware that Charles is watching his every movement. He unzips it and starts taking out his things for the second time since arriving back in Korea. Guilt at leaving Hawkeye and despair at getting  _ so close to home _ mix in his stomach like one of their shittier martinis, and Charles’s judgemental gaze might just be the match that’ll make it all explode. “Charles,  _ what? _ Am I not folding my shorts well enough for you?” BJ asks, tossing down his clothes.

“What?” Charles says.

“You’re staring at me.”

“Not everything revolves around  _ you, _ Hunnicutt,” Charles says. “I was looking  _ past _ you.”

“Yeah, okay. You’ve been looking at this scenery for over two years, seems like you’d know it by now.”

“Well, that’s the beauty of the bug-out, Hunnicutt. It makes you appreciate returning to familiar ground.”

BJ resists rolling his eyes and continues unpacking, throwing his clothes down on the shitty cot with more force than before. He’d been  _ so close. _

“Why  _ are _ you unpacking, anyway? We’re all going to be leaving soon,” Winchester says.

Why  _ is _ he unpacking? He sighs and sits down. “We are, aren’t we?”

Charles’s eyes widen, and he rears his head back as if BJ’s waved some particularly foul odor under his nose. “Oh, Hunnicutt- we’re not going to get sentimental, are we?”

BJ huffs, feeling no real amusement. “No. It’s just- we’re really  _ leaving.” _

“You get to do it twice,” Charles says, the words almost spilling out of his mouth.

BJ frowns. “I’d rather have finished it properly the first time.”  _ That’s a lie, _ he thinks, even as his soul cries out for home.  _ Home _ is spread out across two continents, and three people in particular. Anywhere near Hawkeye is home, and yet he wants to kiss Peggy and hold Erin and bask in California sunshine. Some days, he thinks his heart is going to rip in two.

“You didn’t even  _ start _ it properly the first time,” Winchester says.

“What?” BJ replies, the end of the word clipped.

“You heard me.”

“If this is about you being too wrapped up in your own letter to notice I was trying to say goodbye to you-”

Charles chuckles humorlessly. “No, no, this is not about that. I have thoughts on that subject, but- no. This is about Pierce.”

BJ’s chest deflates like a balloon.  _ As all things are, _ he wants to say, because  _ everything _ is about Hawkeye. Not in an obnoxious way, no- he’s a  _ magnet. _ Everything, everyone, BJ especially, is drawn to him, and his awareness of the phenomenon has barely scratched the surface of it. He  _ betters _ people.  _ That’s it, _ BJ thinks, suddenly giddy. He’s unlocked the secret to Hawkeye Pierce, and-

Charles’s nasal voice bursts through BJ’s thoughts like a Jeep crashing through a wall- which, bad analogy. “I’m no expert in  _ those _ types of friendships,” Charles says, an ocean of implication and complication evident in that one sentence, “but I’m  _ positive _ that they are not supposed to involve one party leaving the other without a note.”

“So that’s what this is about,” BJ says.

“Wha- Hunnicutt,  _ that _ is what the whole  _ camp _ is talking about. Now, everyone  _ understands _ your predicament, but they cannot sympathize with you until you do something. And neither can I.”

BJ narrows his eyes in Charles’s direction. “I know that, and I have a plan, but why are you suddenly so invested in Hawkeye’s feelings?”

Charles sighs, and his usually-ramrod-straight shoulders sag. He looks like he’s gained twenty years in a matter of seconds, and BJ realizes what’s happened to change Charles just as Charles says, “Hunnicutt, this war has spurred  _ so _ much pain- there’s no sense in adding to it.”  _ The musicians, _ BJ thinks. It explains the silence in the tent- there is no Mozart, no Rachmaninoff, no record that BJ would’ve previously called  _ insufferable _ going. Suddenly, he misses the melodies.

“I’m sorry about your friends,” BJ says.

“As am I.”

The silence grows heavy- heavy, and stifling. BJ can’t take it. He doesn’t know how to say he’s sorry to Hawkeye yet, and post-op shifts aren’t going to keep them apart forever, but right now, he can try his damndest to help Winchester. He stands up- Charles waves goodbye, even that little gesture imbued with sarcasm- and crosses the compound to Colonel Potter’s tent. “Colonel?” he calls.

“What is it, Hunnicutt?” Potter replies.

“Can I have two of your records?”

There’s a pause, and then some shuffling. The door cracks open, and Potter’s face appears. “Why in the hell do you want my records? You don’t even have a record player!”

“Yes, but Charles does.”

Potter stares at him for a second, and BJ’s hopes waver. “Come in,” the Colonel finally says.

Once BJ gets himself situated, Potter asks, “What’s your game plan here?”

“Charles isn’t listening to classical music anymore,” BJ starts, and where there once would’ve been a  _ “Thank God,” _ or  _ “Finally,” _ there’s silence. “But, y’know, music has been sort of his refuge, right? So I figure, if I get two records from you, two records from Margaret, give ‘em to him, he’ll have  _ some _ music, even if it’s not exactly to his taste.”

“What makes you think he’ll even listen to ‘em?”

“Remember when I had to borrow two hundred bucks from him, and-”

“Yeah, we cleaned him out at that poker game,” Potter finishes. “Go on.”

“After we left, I heard him listening to  _ Mañana _ . I mean, it’s a long shot, but if it helps him…”

Potter stares at BJ, his bushy eyebrows furrowed and his mouth a straight line. Finally- “All right, I’ll give you two of mine, and I’ll try to keep it  _ ree-fined.” _

“Oh, thanks, Colonel,” BJ says.

“Just hope your idea for apologizing to Pierce is as good,” Potter says, pulling two records out. The dark horse of guilt rears up and kicks BJ in the chest.

“Me too,” BJ says.

“So you’ve got an idea?” Potter asks, handing BJ the records. “Grand gesture, or something?”

“It’s beginning to get to that level. And I’m gonna talk to him, too.”

“That’s always good. Maybe if those delegates had gotten to talking earlier, we’d have all  _ left _ earlier.”

BJ huffs out a quick laugh. “Thanks, Colonel.”

“All right, now get outta here.”

“Yessir.” BJ ducks out of the tent and walks over to Margaret’s tent. “Margaret!” he calls.

_ “What?” _ Margaret snaps, throwing the door open. She sighs. “Sorry. I’m just a little stressed.”

“Oh, I couldn’t tell!” BJ jokes.

Margaret glares at him. “What do you want?”

“Can I have two of your records?”

“What?!”

“For Charles.”

Margaret’s face hardens. “That selfish, no-good lout-”

“Margaret, please?” BJ asks. “I mean, he seems to be going through a real hard time. I was thinking, since he won’t listen to classical music anymore, maybe some other music would cheer him up, without being as painful.”

Margaret keeps glaring, and for a good thirty seconds, BJ is sure that she’s gonna turn him down. “Fine. But don’t you dare tell him that it was  _ me _ who gave them.”

“Margaret, you’re the best!” BJ says as Margaret disappears inside her tent to procure the records.

“Yeah, yeah, I have one condition,” Margaret says, reappearing with the records clutched to her chest.

“What?” BJ asks.

“You better have a  _ really _ good way to apologize to Pierce. When he found out you’d left, he looked like someone had taken a knife to him.” The guilt rears its ugly head again, and BJ nods.

“Yeah, I know,” BJ replies.

“No, you don’t,” Margaret replies. Her face softens. “But I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

She hands him the records. “Thanks, Margaret,” BJ tells her. His mind is awash with the detritus of his actions, but he turns around and heads back to the Swamp, where Charles sits, still unmoving.

“Hey, Charles,” BJ says, putting the records on his bed and out of sight. “What do you think of the song  _ Mañana?” _

“I absolutely loathe it. Why do you ask?”

BJ’s heart falls a little, but he continues. “And that’s your honest-to-God opinion?”

Charles looks up. “What are you playing at, Hunnicutt?”

“Just asking. Do you  _ really _ hate non-classical music that much?”

“What kind of practical joke is this?”

“It’s not a prank! I’m just wondering.”

Charles frowns. “Well…”

“Well?”

“Well, songs like that are… not so terrible.”

BJ grins from ear to ear. “That’s high praise, coming from you, Charles.”

“And I repeat:  _ why _ are you asking?”

BJ grabs the four records off his bed. “Well, classical has a lot of bad connotations for you now, so I thought that maybe some other genres would cheer you up without the bad memories,” BJ tells him, feeling suddenly apprehensive. “You might not like it, but it’s worth a try, right?”

Charles looks taken aback. “Hunnicutt, that’s- well.”

“Yeah.” Apprehension turns to awkwardness, and BJ proffers the stack of records. Charles takes it. “I’m gonna… well. Hope you like them, Charles.” He turns to leave the Swamp.

“BJ?” Charles calls. For a second, BJ’s brain can’t reconcile Charles’s voice with the sound of his own name, and he looks around the compound to see who’s calling him, before he realizes that there’s only one accent like that in the whole camp. He turns back and raises his eyebrows at Charles. “Thank you.”

The corner of BJ’s mouth ticks up. “Yeah, no problem, Charles.”

**Author's Note:**

> ty for reading! this is probably gonna be part of a series detailing the lives of hawk and bj after the war. based off of the prompt "BJ and Charles bonding. somehow." from @justalittlegreen  
> kudos/comments/critiques appreciated :))


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